Pills
by KKSunny
Summary: Arthur Kirkland insists swallowing vitamins will make one stronger. Is Peter Kirkland really that gullible? Britcest. Shounen-ai. Oneshot.


**Some bon****us work deriving from "Adulthood." If you hadn't read it, I'd prefer if you could take the time out of your schedule and read that story first. c:**

**And here we have a New Years gift. Have some Britcest for the holidays, my pretties.**

**Premise: Arthur helps his brother swallow pills.  
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**Genre:**** Family/Romance, fluffy Shounen-ai**

**POV****: Peter Kirkland, third-person**

/Human names used/

**Disclaimer: Hetalia would probably end up being the worst anime ever if I owned it. I'm sparing the world that I don't own it.**

**Personal experience adventure! Sort of. Not entirely. _**

**Enjoy reading.**

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"You really ought to consider non-chewable pills, young Peter."

It was annoying, to say the least, that he should pester the young man about the subject. Always inducing that

"It should be considered another small step to be becoming a proper adult."

This idea conjured not too long ago after Peter's anniversary of adulthood and it's been testing his nerves ever since. The other man's attempts were never convincing, keeping Peter occupied with chewable vitamins. The only benefit that could possibly spur an inner bout of gratitude, however, would be his frequent visits and the invites to Sealand: Peter's home of solitude. It was honestly nice and the man's company was enjoyable. Although he'll never hear that from Peter's mouth...

"Think of it as a window of healthiness and strength."

...

The man, pure English, always standing tall and mature, stoic, and gentlemanly; a healthy mess of sandy blonde hair dodged sharp emerald eyes that matched his sleeveless olive jumper half hidden beneath a dark brown blazer ready to see the cool outdoors. Why he never bothered to take it off was beyond even him. He sat comfortably upon a faded wine-red couch, his pale hands weakly cradling a small bottle that rattled funny whenever he'd desired to tilt it any way.

This place was somewhere he'd gradually grown accustomed to, a small resort away from the buzz of England. Although perhaps he'd never admit this place was his second home, he'd at least refer to it to others round the street or in the shop. The Englishman would have good hearty discussions about the little nation neighbouring Essex's waters when Sealand was ill to notice, and pay his visits however frequent. It was very small indeed, but comfortable and just somewhere to get lost in without any fear. Of course, the blonde's favourite area of the micro-nation had to be its local library within the Church which, upon a visit or two when the day seemed to request it, he would settle down upon a complimentary loveseat aside from an adjoining young man whose features hardly varied in difference between the other man's own.

In the living room, a good area of which to discuss anything, there they sat, two brothers huddled surprisingly close to what one outsider looking in might consider a cuddle. They talked lightly to one another, not minding the sun sinking into the ocean outside the window. The little one, the Sealander, eyes indigo and waning into tired and cranky half-lidded spheres, wearing a scarlet jumper too large for him with his arm slinked over the Englishman's neck and shoulder, whispering refusals toward the container of pills rattling temptingly between the man's fingers.

"I don't care," The younger blonde pouted "I'll choke on them."

A hand rolled up and down his back, soothing him, coaxing him. His expression refused to change.

"It'll be fine, I promise," The Englishman pacified, pressing a teasing smirk to the other's crown. The young man squirmed uncomfortably beneath those lips he's grown to adore. "You'll survive. I swallow these every day."

"Yes but you've tailored to them. I've never touched them before in my life." The youth moaned defensively, pinching the other's yellow hair behind his head.

"Oi, don't –" He scolded, tapping the boy's cheek opposite of him with a flare of annoyance "It's never too late to begin and once you start, they'll just slide right down into your stomach – no struggle needed."

"Easy for you to say, jerk." The younger brother slid his arm away from the "jerk's" neck, grabbed the plastic container in his hands, and slammed it onto the table near a short glass of water, sitting there; waiting for him; expecting him.

"It's not going to go away once it's out of my hands, dear Peter," The Englishman reasoned, tolerating Peter whom returned and nuzzled his face into the crook of the man's neck, continuing with life as if nothing bad ever happened. Sometimes he could act so cute, even if he has grown out of his pubescent years. His brother stroked his arm persuasively. The boy tensed as if it were predatory.

"Why must you worry so? You're not going to die." The man interrogated soothingly, toying with Peter's soft pink ear. He groaned a complaint

"_Eh_– Don't touch there."

It's not as if he hasn't done it before. What was cheering the young man on into such resistance? The elder bid to the other's wishes and slid the pads of his fingers down the boy's jaw which gently shook with a troublesome strive.

"I said don't." The utterance hardly classified as a whisper, but the other released his hands away as silently promised.

"Come on, then. They're vitamins. I wish you weren't so reluctant on the matter. They'll help you grow into a strong, well-to-do man. Hell, you could even be stronger than..."

"Whut?" Peter's eyelashes eagerly tickled the man's neck, energy exploding through his body as if adrenaline decided to inject itself within him. "What? Stronger than what, Artie?"

"You'll just get stronger, dear lovey, that's a definite promise – Just swallow two every day and soon enough you'll see progress." Artie dismissed, almost desperately if Peter were to rewind the clock and listen again carefully.

"Stronger than...Arthur?" The boy suggested giddily, an innocent cheeky smile hugging his lips. Arthur sighed deeply, almost disappointed. He meant well, though.

"If that will get you to open that bottle and swallow at least one pill, then yes. Be my guest."

Immediately, Peter jumped off his brother's lap until his knees jabbed into the floor and he groped the table for the container, prying it open haphazardly like a man thirsty for treasure. Popping two colourless ovals into the palm of his little hand, he cut himself short immediately as if the dots below his fingers were a sheer drop into a spiked pit. He swallowed painfully and glanced over to emerald eyes, a desperate reflection in his indigo stare.

"Afraid already?" Arthur ridiculed, smirking crookedly at the youth whose face only grew more troubled. The Englishman crossed his legs and held the side of his jaw royally. "I assure you they won't stick to the walls of your throat. Can you feel the pill?"

The man pointed at the other's palm with his little finger. The young man picked up the grey oval and examined it as indicated. What was he meaning to stare at?

"The texture. It is smooth, correct?" Peter felt it between the pads of his fingers and nodded silently, keeping his curious gaze locked onto his hands. He still hasn't quite grown out of his childhood; that was obvious.

"It is slick: your throat will not be able to catch that. Do you believe me?" The young man didn't respond, instead his eyes glowed anew at his palm, hardly even able to nod an agreement. _He'll become stronger..._

He stopped.

Arthur couldn't help but glare at the situation.

"What now, Peter?" He criticised, not meaning to sound so irked.

"I-I..." The young man choked, innocently pointing his gaze at Arthur, mouth agape. "I...I can't."

"Well why not?"

His head lowered, defeated, sandy blonde tresses hiding his face. He whispered

"I'll choke..."

Pause.

Uncurl of legs.

Hands met his forehead. Their eyes met. His cheeks blazed.

"You won't choke," The Englishman assured; his face too close, "Must I assist you?"

With a face painted in red, Peter detached, slamming his free palm into the man's face.

"I got it! Don't worry about me!" He practically screamed, hysterical, tossing the pills into his mouth, only to abruptly stop again, screwing his eyes shut in disappointment and embarrassment. They tasted so bitter...

"One at a time, dear Peter." Arthur urged; worry filling his features, cupping a hand below the young man's chin. He refused to spit. "Come on."

Finally, one pill oozed onto Arthur's palm in which he returned it to Peter's hand, clasping it into place.

"Water," The Englishman insisted, picking up the glass carefully. "Tip your head back and sip. It'll toss right in."

Hesitant but obedient hands flitted over the offer, a crowding grimace across his face as he felt the damn thing begin to dissolve.

"It's too big, it'll clog..." Peter whined as he brought the rim to his lips, his nerves at end.

"Hold your chin up; you'll be fine. I promise you, Peter. Now sip. Chin up." The Englishman pressed, kneading the youth's shoulder comfortingly. He avoided the temptation of tipping the glass up for the lad, but he knew what awful things might come of the situation if so.

Under some sort of spell, the youth snapped back and suddenly there was a partially dissolved grey thing swimming within the glass. Arthur bled out a disappointed moan of Peter's name and he traded with his hand, fishing out the blasted pill.

"Dear lord you're more stubborn than I originally thought you were." The man complained under his breath as his fore and middle fingers raced with a rebellious melting pill until he finally caught it between him and the glass, retracting and resting its remains upon a bed of coasters. Peter kept silent, staring miserably at his knees.

"O cheer up, Peter," Arthur pacified, tossing out another pill from the container. "There's always redemption. Would you care at all if I showed you how it's done?"

Peter didn't look up, instead nodded quietly – enough for Arthur to decipher the notion, at least. A soft smile reached his lips, nostalgia rimming his brain. He hasn't changed.

Their eyes locked. Fingers to the youth's chin, his smile finally acknowledged.

"I can't demonstrate without your pretty blue eyes, Peter."

His face flooded in red. His fingers clenched nothing, choking air. He watched like a student during a scientific lesson. Arthur held the glass of water, having it ready near his face until one grey blur dived between his open lips, water shortly flooding after. His Adam's apple delved downward and immediately, Peter was convinced. His eyes beamed in surprise and admiration.

"Is it stuck?" Was the only thing that sprouted into his response. Arthur placed the glass down silently upon its coaster, not even bothering to meet the youth's awed gaze. Instead, he confronted Peter, a pill in hand, offering until it escaped into tinier palms, sudden eager indigo eyes flaring with motivation. His free hand reached for the readied glass, preparing himself unreservedly until Arthur's pale face invaded his vision. The man held his jaw, the back of his head and tipped the youth back slightly, their lips meeting warmly over each other, opening, water cascading through the dam of teeth. Instinct took over and Peter swallowed everything hastily, water dribbling down his chin like an over-filling glass. His hands hesitantly clawed at the Englishman's chest, trying to shove him off to no convincing avail until the man broke himself away, a stupid little smirk smeared across his lips. Peter heaved desperately like a man breaking free from the surface of water, coughing lightly, eyes ablaze.

"Is it stuck?" He echoed cleverly, not searching for an answer. It only formed an unstinting frown from the latter.

"I hate you." Peter remarked bitterly, pointing daggers at the older man, his face wholly flushed, shame-faced.

"You still have one more to go..." He offered, a shrewd smile invading his face. One final pill wedged between his displayed fingers.

"I think I can manage this one, jerk." The youth grabbed at his presentation and fought until it returned to his hand, vaguely speculating how it even escaped his original grip. Before the item dove into his mouth, a wink mocked him as he brought the rim of the glass to his lips and drowned himself, allowing the pill's entrance into his throat. It wasn't so bitter any more.

He would become stronger than Arthur...

"Take two more tomorrow."

"Please avoid aiding me on those."

"No promises."

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><p><strong>AN****: From "Adulthood," I really appreciated the favourites and the reviews, even if there weren't that many of them. c: Hugs all round anyway.**

**So this was the bonus chapter to Adulthood and there will be yet another bonus chapter/alternate ending that includes a Prussian along with our loveable brothers over there. I hope it's to your best interest to read that once I post it. C:**


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